Scotland at France '98: Tartan Army everywhere, Dario G and meeting Brazil at Disneyland
Following Scotland at his first World Cup finals 28 years ago remains a life highlight for Barry Anderson
There is still a rush of goosebumps whenever I hear even a segment of Dario G’s Carnaval de Paris. It was THE tune of France 98, one I’m pretty sure everybody associates with that tournament. This was Scotland returning to the World Cup for the first time in eight years and, as an excited 19-year-old, I was heading to France for a first taste of the so-called greatest show on Earth.
Now, let’s be clear, this was always about the experience. Following Scotland is forever that way. The saying is often: ‘Great trip, apart from the football.’ Our Tartan Army group will be one of thousands who say similar things after a demoralising defeat. Having been to the 1996 European Championship in England with my Dad, I was hooked on the adrenaline and sense of adventure brought by attending an international tournament. The beer helped as well, to be fair.
We planned our World Cup trip well in advance. This time, my stepmum, auntie, uncle, and auntie’s brother joined us, as did my mate Rab. We got hold of kilts, bought the new Scotland shirt and arrived at Glasgow Airport on 8 June, 1998, for a flight to Charles de Gaulle in Paris (via Birmingham). At this point, it’s worth giving credit to my stepmum. She organised the whole trip and did a really fantastic job in the days when the internet wasn’t really an option for booking flights, hotels or trains.
With Dario G through our ghetto blaster (remember them?), we queued for boarding chatting about what the World Cup atmosphere would be like. A cockney accent behind us asked if we were heading to Paris. He then enquired: ‘When’s the England game?’ Rab turned round and, with a smile, delivered a delightful response: ‘Who cares?’
Paris was absolutely buzzing from the moment we landed. Two days till Scotland and Brazil opened the tournament at the purpose-built Stade de France in the city’s SaintDenis suburb, the whole place was awash with World Cup fever. People of all nationalities wanted to know why Scottish men were wearing skirts, Nigerians and Jamaicans asked if the ginger hair was real, and the Tartan Army seemed to be everywhere.
The eyes of the world were on Scotland against Brazil. We watched on a large screen in one of the Paris squares. Me, my Dad, uncle and Rab all had tickets for Scotland’s second match in Bordeaux against Norway, but the frustration of being just a few miles away from that opening World Cup game and not being there is something I’ll never forget.
Losing an early goal to Cesar Sampaio was typical Scotland, yet John Collins’ penalty equaliser genuinely raised hope that a draw was on the cards. Craig Brown had his team well organised and playing confidently, even if a certain Ronaldo had to be watched carefully. Brazil’s No.9 was the best player on the planet at that time, but fear not. We had big Colin Hendry marking him. He didn’t stand a chance. Again, in true Scottish fashion, a late own goal prevented a creditable result against one of the tournament favourites as the game ended 2-1 to Brazil.
Meeting Brazil at Disneyland
Bumping into the full Brazilian squad at Disneyland Paris a couple of days later was an extra surprise. Security was tight as people swarmed around the obvious superstars like Ronaldo and Rivaldo. Denilson was slightly more accessible, so over I went and asked him to sign my shirt. I had a No.11 on the back and swung my arm round to point at it to ensure he signed right on it. Inadvertently, I managed to punch his security guard square on the jaw in the process. He wasn’t too impressed.
We took a high-speed train down to La Rochelle the next day, which would be our base outside Bordeaux. We soon discovered transport for the 95-mile journey into the city was non-existent. My Dad and stepmum soon organised a bus to transport every Scotland fan staying on our holiday park to Bordeaux for the Norway match on 16 June.
The beer village in the city was packed with Scots and Norwegians all having a fantastic time. They seemed to gulp down more pints than the Tartan Army, which is no mean feat. Parc Lescure was an open bowl-shaped ground like many European venues and the atmosphere in the sunshine was incredible.
Again Scotland fell behind as Havard Flo struck seconds after half-time, and again we forced an equaliser. A lob from Craig Burley, pictured right, over the advancing Frode Grodas remains the last goal Scotland scored at the World Cup finals. Surely that will change over the next few weeks. A 1-1 draw was enough that day and we flew back to Glasgow feeling qualification for the knockout phase was well within the team’s capability.
A 3-0 defeat to Morocco in Saint Etienne, combined with a red card for Burley, ensured a familiar ending. Scotland were out of the World Cup at the group stage yet again, same as at every other major tournament. They finished bottom of Group A with one point but were still welcomed back home with great affection.
Looking back on those 10 days, it remains a life highlight. Meeting people from so many different countries, travelling around France and being inside the stadium watching Scotland play at the World Cup was simply phenomenal. Who knows what the next few weeks will bring on the other side of the Atlantic, but those who are there will simply never forget it.
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